"Why, to Established Churches, of course. As long as fancies and
imaginary beings are left free to each man to construct or destroy as he
will,--or again, I may say, as long as they are fluid,--they subserve
the pleasurableness of life. But when you take in hand and make a Church
out of them, and all that, what can you expect?"

"I think you must be confusing the Church with the Royal Academy,"
observed the Bishop, with some acidity.

"There would be plenty of excuse for me, if I did," replied Morewood.
"There's no truth and no zeal in either of them."

"If you please, we will not discuss the truth. But as to the zeal, what
do you say to the example of it among us now?" And the Bishop, lowering
his voice, indicated Stafford.

Morewood directed a glance at him.

"He's mad!" he said briefly.

"I wish there were a few more with the same mania about."

"You don't believe all he does?"

"Perhaps I can't see all he does," said the Bishop, with a touch of
sadness.

"How do you mean?"